Chapter Text
Shara Bey is pretty sure that she loves Christmas almost as much as her son does. It feels like Poe loves Christmas the most among the three of them, but she thinks she’s pretty close to matching his enthusiasm for the holiday.
Everything about this time of year just makes her feel more at ease. Sure, maybe not the Christmas shopping, navigating through crowded, busy stores and long checkout lines. But everything else brings a sense of warmth and nostalgia, and she delights in passing that down to her son. Decorating the Christmas tree, putting up lights in all of the windows and along the roof of the house. Making hot cocoa on cold evenings and snuggling up to watch classic movies that remind her of her own childhood. Baking cookies, the whole kitchen smelling of sugar and butter while Christmas carols play in the background.
Trying to find ways to help Poe appreciate the holiday in his own way has been important to her, and she feels a swell of pride every time she watches him throw himself fully into an experience. It hadn’t always gone well, though. There had been a lot of trial and error, figuring out what Poe enjoyed and what was too much for him, what was more stressful than enjoyable.
So hosting a Christmas party was a gamble. When she and Kes had invited their friends and neighbors over for the evening, she couldn’t help the little worried voice in the back of her mind that asked, What if something goes wrong?
But seven years of being a parent had taught her that few things ever went exactly the way they were planned, so she tried her best to push the voice away, plan for possible outcomes, and move forward anyway.
* * *
Saturday night comes around, and the party is going better than she expected.
The guests are all here, the kids having fun in the basement. There’s a veritable buffet of potluck food in the kitchen and a well-stocked selection of drinks. Kes has six different CDs loaded into the sound system, shuffling through Christmas songs both new and old.
Shara finds herself actually enjoying the evening, for once not worrying so much about plans or logistics and just going with the flow. She’s missed just having friends over, enjoying each other’s company and laughing at everyone’s stories. They need to do this more often.
From the corner of her vision, Shara spies a small figure dart from the top of the basement stairs and across the living room, disappearing around the corner. She deftly excuses herself from the conversation in the kitchen, setting down her drink and weaving around a cluster of people in the living room to round the corner towards the stairs. She heads up towards the bedrooms, stopping halfway up where the staircase turns.
Huddled on the landing, knees pulled tight to his chest and clutching his favorite toy airplane, is her son. She walks slowly up the last few steps to where Poe is nestled in the corner and sits down on the carpeted stairs, while Poe hums softly and wiggles the fingers of his free hand in front of his eyes.
“Hi, beautiful,” she says softly, scooting back so that she’s seated next to him, back pressed against the wall. “You doing okay?”
Poe continues to stim quietly, looking down at what he can see of the living room with those big, dark eyes she loves so much. At seven years old, he’s starting to lose some of that little kid softness, and she can see Kes’s features in him more and more as he gets older.
“Want a hug?” she offers, opening up her arms.
Immediately, he clambers up into her lap and she squeezes him tight, resting her chin on top of his head. He sways back and forth a little in her grasp, enjoying the deep pressure, and she follows his cue. She rocks her body gently back and forth, giving Poe a soothing moment amidst all of the activity and stimulation of the party.
“Too much going on down there, huh?” she murmurs.
Poe presses his face into her shoulder, repeating, “Dee dee dee dee dee,” against the fabric of her shirt. He reaches up, touching her wavy hair and letting it run through his fingers. Shara keeps one hand held nearby, prepared to catch him if he starts to pull on her hair. With painful past experience to go on, she’s ready to redirect Poe if needed, but also understands how soothing the motion is for her boy.
So she watches him, his little fingers twisting through her long, dark hair, letting it fall in waves again and and again. “You know, you are doing such a great job with this, my love,” she tells him. “I know there are lots of people and a lot of things going on. I’m proud of you for knowing you needed a quiet moment.”
She thinks of all of the activity that must be going on in the basement, the kids of friends and neighbors all playing games and riling each other up. When she and Kes had first considered the idea of hosting a Christmas party, neither of them had been entirely sure how it would go for their son. They had memories of being invited to other parties, of having to leave early when Poe had a meltdown. How Shara would apologize and gather their things while Kes slung Poe over his shoulder, trying to avoid getting punched in the head by the boy’s flailing arms. How the curious eyes of the other party guests would follow them as they left, how the host would look apologetic but grateful, and she and Kes would regret they had ever tried to go out in the first place.
But this time, they had involved Poe from the beginning, making sure he knew what was going to happen, who he could expect to be there. They helped make sure that he knew he could retreat if he needed to, that this time he was still in the comfort of his own home, not some unfamiliar new environment. So far, it seems to be going alright.
Poe continues to run his hands lightly through her hair, watching the way it slides smoothly through his fingers, and she rubs his back encouragingly.
“Hey, baby, remember when we made Christmas cookies yesterday?” she asks Poe. The day before, they had spent several hours baking dozens of sugar cookies in preparation for today. When he could stay focused, Poe had helped with pouring the ingredients into the bowls and pressing the cookie cutters into the dough when it was ready. They had made trees, stars, and snowmen by the dozens, all baked and ready for the party.
“In a little while, we’re going to decorate those cookies,” she continues. “The kids will all come upstairs and we’ll have icing and sprinkles ready for you guys to use. Do you want to do that with everybody? Yes or no?” She holds out both hands, shaking one for ‘yes’ and the other for ‘no’ and waiting for him to respond.
He looks down at her hands for a minute, making soft, repetitive sounds as he taps his fingers against his lips. Then he reaches out and quickly taps her left hand. Yes.
“Okay, great! Thank you for telling me,” she answers happily. “We can do it together, mi amor. How does that sound? I’ve got a bunch of stars ready just for you.”
Poe grins, tilting his head up to meet her eyes for a moment before he snuggles back into her embrace, lifting his hands to repeatedly sign, Cookie.
“That’s right. We’re going to decorate so many cookies. I need my best helper with me.” She presses a kiss to the side of his head, rocking him back and forth in her arms. They stay like that for another few minutes, cuddled together halfway up the stairs, listening as a new song comes on over the sound system.
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire …
Jack Frost nipping at your nose …
Poe laughs happily at the start of his favorite song. “Ma-ma-ma-MA!” he says emphatically, flapping his hands near his chest.
“Oh, my bay-bee!” she responds in the same cadence, smiling down at him. The two of them repeat the pattern a few times in a soothing rhythm before she lifts him up off of her lap and sets him back down onto the step. “Okay, mijo, I need to go get the cookies ready. You can come with me, or stay here. Which one?”
She holds out her hands again to give him two options, and when he chooses ‘stay here’ she nods in acknowledgment. “Good choice. I’ll come and get you when it’s time for cookies, okay?”
As she stands back up and starts to head down the stairs again, Poe stretches out onto his back, lifting his plane up in the air to zoom it back and forth over his head in a slow figure-eight.
Shara meanders back through the living room and over to Kes, who’s involved in an enthusiastic conversation with his friend Melshi. From what she can gather, they’re deep in the planning stages of some new outdoor adventure for when the weather warms up again. She loves her husband dearly, but camping is most definitely not her thing. She’d prefer a trip through a big city any day.
“And what do the Idiots in the Woods have planned this time?” she asks with a smile, leaning up to give her husband a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey! Once a Pathfinder, always a Pathfinder,” Kes responds in mock offense, poking her in the ribs in playful retaliation. “Backpacking trip up in the mountains.”
“Mm-hmm. Sounds… great?” she deadpans, one eyebrow raised skeptically.
Kes wraps an arm around her shoulders and casts a glance back towards the stairs. “Is our kiddo doing okay?” he asks.
“He’s good,” Shara says, leaning into the embrace. “He just needed a break. I told him it was going to be time to decorate the cookies soon. You’re on duty for cookie distribution, boys.” She looks up at her husband and then over at Melshi.
Kes chuckles softly when Melshi gestures towards himself, drink sloshing in its red plastic cup. “Me too?” the other man says, eyebrows raised.
“You too,” Shara confirms. “Call it pre-payment for making me be a single parent for a whole weekend while the two of you go climb a mountain. Now march.” She points a finger at the kitchen, and both men give her little mock salutes.
“Yes, ma’am.” Kes gives her a playful grin as he follows Melshi out of the living room, and she reaches out and gently smacks his shoulder as he leaves. Shara goes to find a couple of the other parents who had agreed to help out and ushers them all into the kitchen, directing each person to a task.
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen and dining room are humming with activity as kids decorate plates full of cookies and the adults hover around them, trying to keep the chaos at a minimum.
In one corner of the room at the end of the table, Shara sits with Poe in her lap, gently helping him hold a spoon as he spreads icing over a plain sugar cookie. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to spread the icing evenly, and Shara offers him encouraging words as he works, waiting until he’s finished to hand him a container of sprinkles which he shakes gleefully over the cookie, watching the sparkly sugar cover the fresh icing.
“That looks delicious, Poe, sweetheart,” she says.
Poe squeals in delight and promptly shoves the entire cookie into his mouth, a shower of sprinkles falling into their laps.
Shara laughs and brushes off their clothes, adding, “Okay, you can’t eat all of them right now. We have to save some for later, alright? Decorate them now, eat them later.” She squeezes him tight, rocking them both back and forth in the chair.
By the end of it they’re both covered in drips of icing and a fine dusting of glittery sprinkles, but Poe is happy, sticking close to her and watching Home Alone from the kitchen doorway while the remaining kids cluster around the TV in the living room. Other parents help Shara clean up the explosion of cookie chaos as the party begins to wrap up, and she smiles to herself as she packs up the rest of Poe’s cookies to save for later.
He’d picked out just the ones cut out in star shapes, but each star is unique. Some covered in vast quantities of icing and colored sugar, some topped with meticulously arranged chocolate chips and colorful candies, like a perfect comparison between Poe’s chaotic energy and his interest in even the smallest, most precise details in things.
Shara looks over at him, clutching the doorway with his body pressed against the wall as he watches the familiar movie. His t-shirt is messy and his curly hair glitters with stray sprinkles, so there’s definitely bath time in his near future, but for now she’s just glad that he enjoyed himself tonight.
“You did a great job, kiddo,” she says quietly. She thinks of the jet fighter cookie cutter tucked away up in her closet that she’d purchased as a Christmas gift for Poe. Maybe they’ll have a special cookie day tomorrow, just the two of them.
Slowly the guests start to clear out, saying their goodbyes and herding their kids out the door, dragging armfuls of winter coats and containers of leftover food with them. Shara says her farewells as they pack up, continuing to tidy the kitchen as people leave and the house grows steadily quieter.
After a while, Kes comes up the stairs from seeing the last of their guests out and gives her a wide, satisfied grin. We did it! he mouths silently.
I know! she answers back, eyebrows raised in surprise.
He pauses as he reaches the kitchen doorway, holding his arms open towards Poe. The boy pushes himself away from the wall and leaps up into his father’s embrace, clinging tightly.
“Pa pa pa,” Poe murmurs into his father’s shirt, angling his head so he can still watch the movie over Kes’s shoulder.
“Hi, buddy,” he responds, then gestures for Shara to come closer, wrapping her up in his arms, too. “And you, babe. We actually pulled it off, can you believe it?”
She leans into his arms, reaching up to hug him back, with Poe sandwiched between them. “It actually worked,” she echoes, grinning.
He chuckles, then looks down at her, “I know you’re going to hate me for saying this…”
“Kes.”
“Because you hate when I make corny jokes...”
“Don’t—“
“But it really is the most wonderful time of the year.”
She can’t help the wry laughter that escapes her. “Oh my god…” she deadpans. “Just for that, you’re on bathtime duty. Happy holidays, soldier.”